Sleep right now would be logical, logical in that my body fatigues at such an hour of early morning when yesterday's tomorrow has already come and gone.

My brain begins to decrease his speed, his rythmic footsteps are deep of a bass drum, drum, drum, bum, bum, bum. Deep and measured in nature's synchronisation. He walks in freedom of wandering thoughts and observation of all which he is born. Each morning I walk to feel my creation, to center myself. Listen to the trees, they are wiser. They have read more books, for they have written them in those constant rings. Rings of years and poetry, his music. Music recorded, forever inscribed, as the notes of summer's birds. True music, this is how to feel, how I feel, how she feels. We can only truly feel if we stay here. No, don't leave for cement sidewalks, littered with wasted paper we have stolen from wisdom, created from inutile intelligence of detail. "Simplify, simplify, simplify" as he had said. We stole from the earth to only let her body wither, weather. Now it must rain, and feel it. To feel, you need to stay. They'll corrupt you, shove an umbrella in your hand and tell you not to like the rain. Beauty is not to be wet; your makeup will run. To be dry is comforting; so tell me, why does the human body cry? The rain is beauty, beauty of the world's constant changing and giving to all she has created. We're thirsty, thirsty for knowledge and feeling. So drink. Feel the raindrop's rythym on your skin, of a deep bass drum, drum, drum, bum, bum, bum. Deep and measured in nature's synchronisation.

I'm dancing.
My body always in movement like the earth, never static. I spin, spin, and spin. Dizziness abrupts my thoughts other than that of sunlight. I see only sunlight, and blue, and a glimpse of leaves in green and my world is crashing down. I'm falling, fearless, for how am I to fear when I'm falling into heaven? "Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads" is a secret that we share, he and I.
And I fall.

And I think I'm dreaming, or maybe it's simply that "our truest life is when we are in our dreams awake."

Though sleep right now would be logical, logical in that my body fatigues at this hour of the morning- but is that an effect of corruption? Was the human body made to sleep as much as they tell us we should? Are we tired simply because they tell us we should be, technically? And what if we had never known, what if we had simply lived by true nature without searching for Science and his truth. Would we sleep but for four hours? For six? How much more life would we live if they wouldn't have told us when to sleep and when to awake, if we could just live by the nature of body without the mind's influence of "8 hours"? I can pose the question, but I will never know truth. All I do know, and he knows, is that "it is unwise to keep the head long on a level with the feet." Otherwise we can not see, we can not breathe, we cannot learn, we cannot be.